


Every Ladrien Fic Ever

by BullySquadess



Series: Every ML Fic Ever [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Again, F/M, but like, its also crack so, this is technically smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 15:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: Ladybug pays a certain model a surprise visit.... ;)





	Every Ladrien Fic Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Again: I adore all sides of the square and this is loving satire.

Pants pooled around his ankles and face smushed against the glass of his bedroom windows, it was sausage-pulling time for Paris’ favorite model.

“For fucks sake,” Plagg sighed, watching the model beat his meat. “Do you ever stop?”

Spoiler Alert: The model never stopped.

Every night the model had the same routine: shower, cry, shower, cry, cry in the shower, and jerk off out of his bedroom window, hoping that all the ladybug pheromones he spiked his morning cereal with would transfer to his spunk and lure a certain delectable heroine to his bedroom.

So far, he hadn’t been successful, but it seemed as though tonight was his…

L U C K Y night.

Ladybug let out an inhuman screech as her body slammed into his window, the banshee call sounding like the sweetest of music to the model’s ears.

“Fuck my ass with a poisoned cactus, who the FUCK put this invisible forcefield here?!”

 _‘Wow,’_  the model thought, stuffing his dongeroo back into his underwear,  _‘she’s so dreamy.’_

“It’s not a force field, it’s a window,” the model explained, “A wall of glass panes inlaid with-“

Ladybug slapped a hand over his mouth, and the model came in his pants.

“Woah hold the phone wait a fucking minute are you Adrien mother(less)fucking Agreste, the model?” she asked, pulling them both into his room before slamming the window shut so hard the entire wall of windows shattered.

“Oh shit, is your dad gunna hear that?”

“Nah, he’s too busy staring pensively at elaborate murals of his dead or possibly missing wife.”

“Wait… you don’t know if she’s dead or missing?”

Adrien shrugged. “No spoilers.”

“Well!” Ladybug chirped, limbering up her cooch with a pre-peener stretching routine, “I dont know about you, but all this talk of dead moms is making me horny for some macaroni and model cock!”

“Why do you keep repeating the fact I’m a model?” the model asked, modeling.

“Because, as a conventionally attractive character who often wears a costume that’s judged to be kinky, you have to constantly be objectified and sexualized by the fandom, reducing your character to pure looks despite your many other attributes.”

“I understand,” the model said, even though he didn’t.

Because he was a model.

“But anyways,” Ladybug said, now casually pole dancing, “What are you up to tonight my banana creamsicle?”

“Working on my shrine to you,” the model whispered back, cumming in his pants again as Ladybug humped his fireman’s pole.

“What?”

“Nothing!” the model shrieked, “On a totally unrelated topic, can I have some of your hair?”

“Only if I can have some of yours too.”

“…”

“…”

“Fist me!” Ladybug blurted.

“What?”

“Replace my blood with your cum!”

“Your mouth is saying things that my homeschool brain is not able to comprehend.”

“Wanna make out?”

“Okay sure,” the model said, giggling as Ladybug body slammed him into his bed dick-first. He came again.

“Tikki, tits out!” Ladybug commanded, and her costume fell away to reveal Marinette in black cat nipple clamps, black cat panties, bell collar, black cat ears, black cat tail, green pawprint manicure, black cat stockings and giant “I AM MARINETTE” tattoo across her stomach.

“Marinette?!” the model gasped, modelesquely, “The girl from my class that I either completely ignore or have a massive crush on depending on the fic??!?!”

“Shit-fuck,” Marinette muttered, quickly ripping out her pigtails and shifting her bangs slightly to the left.

“Oh cool you’re back Ladybug. You look really sexy and not at all like any of my classmates when your hair is down!”

The kwamis flew down from the loft.

“You guys should reveal yourselves!” Plagg roared.

“Who are you?” Ladybug articulated.

“That’s Chat Noir’s kwami,” Tikki sobbed.

“Go hide!” the model hypothesized.

Once the kwami had disappeared to the s h a d o w  r e a l m all smut fanfic authors banished them to, Ladybug leaned down to violently tonsil-tango her crush. The model instantly turned into a pliant, submissive ragdoll beneath her touch, unable to do anything besides moan her name and look handsome while doing it.

They spent the next 4-6 hours fucking across every corner of his room, Ladybug pinning the model to every semi-flat surface in sight and milking his cat udder like she was a dust bowl era farm-hand looking for a raise. They broke the bed, busted the arcade machine, got very creative with the zipline, and of course made use off the all-important shower- fucking until the model was looking more like an empty gogurt tube than an actual human person.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the pair lay cuddled amidst the wreckage of their bone-a-thon, that the model regained the ability to speak. “I love you Ladybug,” the boy who modeled and was a model sighed, nuzzling against the girl who would look like Marinette Dupain-Cheng if her hair was slightly different.

“I love you too centerfold poster,” Ladybug sighed back. “Even though everyone knows Ladrien is a false, shallow ship based solely off of us worshipping the idealised versions of each other that we’ve created in our heads lol.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad that we’re no more than empty vessels for our true selves. A painful mask that we must use to hide our own insecurities lol.”

They both laughed to hide their deep inner sorrow.

“So anyways I’ll be back tomorrow!” Ladybug said, leaping to her feet and transforming back to her not-naked self. “See you in class- I-I MEAN MY PUSSY.”

“Alright, see you during the next akuma attack- I mean on patrol- I M-MEAN CLAWS OUT!!”

There was a flash of green light as the model transformed into Chat Noir before her very eyes, and Ladybug screamed so loud the wall of windows shattered for a second time.

(Again, Gabriel Agreste heard none of this over the sound of being a shitty abusive father.)

“I-I can explain!” Chat yowled, running to his desk on all fours (A/N Chat has cat tendencies >:3c) and knocking over the cup of water that sat there. Like a cat. 

“Chat Noir! What have you done to my sweet innocent coverboy?!” Ladybug wailed, apparently forgetting the fact she’d just spent the last 4-6 hours becoming a boy-flute virtuoso by way of practicing on her “sweet innocent coverboy” ’s finely-tuned tickle instrument.

“He.. ugh…. I-I… well… CLAWS IN!” Chat screeched, striking a pose befit for a model as he de-transformed. Ladybug launched herself at him at warp speed, breaking the sound barrier as they slammed against the one wall they hadn’t completely demolished with their earlier tournament of genital tic-tac-toe.

“Oh perfume ad, I thought I’d lost you!” she yodeled, pulling the half-orphan to her chest. “I vow to come by your room every night until some inevitable drama surrounding our reveal stalls the story for several chapters!”

And she did.

This went on until the predictable “why don’t you love the real me?” angst chapter and didn’t pick back up again until the equally predictable Adrienette makeup. the end.


End file.
